


delicate

by MonikaKrasnorada



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Apologies, I had a bad day, M/M, PWP, Pining, This Is STUPID, an excuse to write some smexing, and this happened, i guess it's a college au?, i leave way too much room, it's not rocket science, to fill in the blanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-16 03:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14803146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonikaKrasnorada/pseuds/MonikaKrasnorada
Summary: It's 'technically' a college AU. Armie is the star quarterback, Timmy the kicker. But none of that is really important or even needed to know in order to read this. It was just an excuse to write these two getting it on. Finally. And, Armie is only a couple of years older than Timmy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had a shit day yesterday, and as a result, I couldn't sleep last night, so this happened.
> 
> ETA: There are loads of mistakes and they are all my own. This has NOT been beta'd and as mentioned, written during a sleepless night. Hopefully I'll come back to it and make it more presentable at some point. xoxo

“God, Tim. You are such a sap.” Armie groaned as he planted his ass right in the middle of the sofa. Per usual, he got the middle finger salute from Timmy as he looked to Nick for back up. The bastard held his hands up, shaking his head. He had no dog in that fight, obviously.

“You know the rules,” His tone was overly-patient in that condescending, mothering way that would have run all over Armie had he not said it as he shoved a fistful of popcorn into his face.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. But you nancies better prepare yourselves for when it’s my turn to pick again. Can you say _midget porn_?” With great pleasure, Armie poured his giant box of raisenettes over the top of the bowl of popcorn that sat between his thighs. Timmy moaned in disgust, the sound more than making up for the silent ‘ew’ that was etched onto Nick’s face.

Armie just smiled as he began to munch.

“Want some?” He politely offered to both his buds. The only answer he got was another finger. This time, in stereo.

They all laughed and settled in to watch the movie.

This was their routine. Sunday nights (well, most of them anyway) were reserved for hanging out. _Bro time._ Somewhere along the line, this had turned into movie night, rotating who got to pick the movie they would watch, nothing off-limits. It was mandatory. It was their touchstone. Their way of keeping tight through the responsibilities of work and school and everything in between. They could give each other shit about the choice of movie (well, duh) but they _had_ to watch it, no matter what.

Without fail.

As the movie about a Scottish mother and her deaf son began, Armie was surprised to find himself actually drawn into the story, wondering how much a sap that made him as well. But, he should have known that would be the case, because Timmy had impeccable taste. He was refined, cultured...civilized. So unlike the rest of the team from the very start. They had become such an unlikely couple of friends, even for being teammates. Tim, the kicker (small, agile) and Armie, the quarterback (too large to get lost in a crowd, brash)

Everyone had given Armie such shit for the immediate shine he had taken to Tim when he’d walked onto the field his Freshman year. Of course, Armie’s reputation had meant everyone immediately assumed it was because he wanted to get into Timmy’s pants, but it had never gone there. Armie held too much respect to even try. For all of Timothee’s fey appearance, Armie could always sense a simmering ferocity humming just beneath Timmy’s skin that he doubted anyone else was aware of but him.

But, fuck, that was becoming a problem though, right? Two years on and what about Timmy _wasn’t_ Armie aware of these days? The fucker was always on his mind, even at the most inappropriate times. As in the night before, while he and Nick  hung out at the local bar, in the bathroom with a random dude he had picked up, with long pale arms and hair the color of midnight. It didn’t mean anything, so long as he got off, right?

 _Jesus, he was fucked up_.

In the darkened common room of the frat house where they all lived, Armie forgot the film as he let his head roll to the side, staring at Timmy’s profile. The movie played on, the flickering images highlighting his regal silhouette as Armie mindlessly traced it with his eyes...the high forehead and intellectual brow, deep set eyes and that arrow straight nose, to lips that were...yeah, fuck him, they were perfect. Full and wide, they would feel so soft…

“You know who that is, don’t you?” Armie blinked fast, startled by Timmy’s whisper as he leaned his head close, eyes still focused on the tv.

Armie somehow managed to divert his eyes away from the perfection of Timmy to squint at the screen. A guy was there, nice-looking, clearly uncomfortable as the boy, Frankie, yeah that was it, Frankie embraced him. Armie didn’t have a clue who he was.

“No. Should I know him?”

Timmy laughed softly, the sound a caress in Armie’s ears that made him flinch. “You’ve only declared him a god just recently.”

“What?” He focused on the actor, but still couldn’t place him.

Timmy’s smile was wide. Armie swallowed hard. “Here’s a clue: ‘This is Sparta!’”

Nick looked over at them, wanting to know what was going on.

“Timmy’s just full of shit. He says that dude,” he pointed to the screen, “is the same one that played in _300_.”

“It is. That’s King Leonidas.”

“Bullshit.”

“It is.” Timmy insisted.

“It really is,”  Nick nodded in agreement.

“Well, fuck me, don’t this just suck. My hero is a pussy.” Armie complained.

Nick smiled and Timmy laughed again. “Tell us something we don’t know, you whore.” He rolled his eyes and settled back in to watch to movie.

It was a joke, Armie knew, but hearing him say that...He rubbed the center of his chest and ignored the snack that sat untouched between his thighs during the rest of the film.

 

******

 

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Timmy beamed as he slid the DVD back into its cover.

Armie stood up, stretching his long arms over his head, yawning wide until his jaw cracked. “No, not bad at all as far as coma-inducing films go...Fuck.” He groaned as Nick punched him soundly in the arm.

“You don’t have to be such a prick all the time,” Nick reminded him.

“I was kidding, you asshole,” he retorted, punching Nick back for good measure.

Timmy only shook his head as he watched his two pals rubbing their now aching arms.

“Front all you want, Armie. You didn’t fall asleep, so it couldn’t have been that bad.” His smile made Armie’s throat tighten.

He cleared it with a loud cough, but his voice was still gravel-edged. “It was ok, even with it’s lack of full-frontal, but that chick really wouldn’t have done it for me, you know.”

“True, but _he_ would have done it for me.” Timmy quietly quipped as he placed the dvd back in its place on the shelf, avoiding turning around.

Armie swallowed hard and Nick’s mouth dropped open for a split second. Timmy never, _ever_ made jokes with them about his sexual preferences. It wasn’t like Timmy hid the fact that he was gay, it just never seemed like something he needed to discuss, so they didn’t.

Armie and Nick were taken aback and silent for way too long.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You both saw him in _300._ Gay or straight, you have to admit he is damn fine.”

He had them there. They both nodded in reluctant agreement before heading out of the room.

Their rooms were on the second floor, so they made their way together. Each stopped in front of their respective doorways, talking shit and catching up on all that had gone down during the day, what a shit week it was going to be with finals coming up.

They had all turned to head off to bed when Timmy called out to them. “I won’t be tomorrow night, just, you know. Letting you guys know. Not that you’ll miss me but, yeah,” his hand scrubbed at the back of his neck and though he was talking to both Nick and Armie, his eyes stayed locked on Nick, more than obvious he was avoiding Armie’s eye. “Just....so you know.”

“Yeah? Got big plans?” Nick asked, his tone falsely light, knowing he was caught in some sort of weird angst-vortex between Timmy and Armie.

Which, Armie hated the idea that other people could see, or fucking hell, maybe even _feel_ the push-and-pull that existed between he and Timmy. He was fucking _trying_ to keep his shit on lockdown.

Armie didn’t look at Nick . He _couldn’t_ look at Nick, because he couldn’t drag his eyes away from Timmy’s nervous look.

Timmy shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging. “I’m going out. Meeting...someone.”

“You have a _date_?” Armie all but barked. He took a deep breath, willing his heart to stop galloping like a fucking horse. “Since when do you date?”

He knew he shouldn’t have pulled that one outta his ass as soon as it had left, and the narrowed green eyes that now settled on him sealed the deal.

“It’s not a _date_ date...Not that it’s any of _your_ business.”

_Ouch._

“Yeah, ok, whatever.” He turned to Nick, gave him a half-ass smile. “Guess I’ll catch _you_ tomorrow then.”

 

******

 

_“We might live like never before._

_When there's nothing to give,_

_Well how can we ask for more?_

_We might make love in some sacred place._

_The look on your face is delicate.”_

His feet pounded out the miles against the whirring black tread, the sound dulled behind the tender song that played in incongruous contrast to the goat-fuck going on in his head.

Workouts for Armie usually consisted of weights. Lots and lots of weights, ‘cause all the ladies love Cool J’. But, he wasn’t feeling that tonight. Tonight he would have given his left nut to be anywhere but here while Timmy was somewhere out there.

Armie wanted to be on the road. The empty highway leading out of town, just running. Not that it was going to be possible to get away from himself, and the tangle of garbled thoughts that were hammering away at his grey matter.

But here he was, running in place.

A rat on a wheel, without hope of a cheesy treat once he was finished.But, fuck. Not that it mattered. He didn’t even know what the hell this mood was about.

_Bull. Shit._

He had given up the thought of getting any sleep last night after the third hour of staring up at the ceiling. Timmy had a date and he couldn’t fucking stand the thought.

Timmy never dated. Armie knew he _should_ , why not? Not like Armie didn’t fuck anything with two legs given half the chance. It shouldn’t _matter_ to Armie what Timmy did. But, fuck if he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Armie wanted to see the guy. Who was he? Where did Timmy even know him from? It wasn’t like he was on the make lately.

_Fuck._

_“So why do you fill my sorrow,_

_With the words you've borrowed?_

_From the only place you've known._

_And why do you sing Hallelujah,_

_If it means nothing to you?_

_Why do you sing with me at all?”_

This song. This motherfucking song. It had taken him another two hours during his restless night to find it online to download, because of course, it couldn’t be on the soundtrack. No way. That would just be too simple. And, fuck simple, right?

“Delicate.” That was the title. From the movie the night before, it had played during a very poignant scene, and the beauty of it had touched Armie; it’s mournful tone making him think of Timmy.

_Delicate._

Timmy was delicate. That was the perfect word to describe him. Of course, there were lots of words that could be thrown at his best friend, all of which would suit him just fine. Intelligent. Loyal. Strong. Dependable.

But, _delicate._ Armie was the only one that knew that part of him.

That kiss. The _one fucking kiss_ they had shared almost a month ago, drunk and against better judgement. That had been delicate. Unforgettable.

The most perfect kiss of Armie’s life. The kiss that was ruining the best thing in Armie’s life at the moment, because he wanted more. Always. Selfishly. More. And he knew Timmy would give it to him. All of it. All Armie had to do was ask and he could ruin every delicate inch of Timmy and that was something he never wanted to do. Timmy deserved better than anything Armie could give him.

_Fucking hell._

He punched the button on the controls in front of him, amping up his speed as if he could get away from the memory of it. He closed his eyes, the song playing on loop and tried to let the burn in his lungs force the images out of his head… The fleeting moments where he had given up a piece of himself to the safe keeping of his best friend.

 

******

 

“That must be some hardcore shit to get you going like that.”

Armie nearly went down on his ass as the treadmill slowed. He grabbed the handrails, catching himself as he looked over at Timmy on the one beside him. Nick on the one over from that.

“Let me borrow it?” Timmy made a grab for his earbuds before Armie even had time to react.

“Hold up, T– ” Too late he spoke as the little traitors were shoved into Timmy’s ears. Timmy’s mouth made a perfect ‘o’, his eyes locking onto Armie’s as it registered just what he was listening to.

Angry embarrassment flared bright red in Armie as he jerked the earbuds away from Timmy and stormed off toward the gym’s showers.

“Back awfully early from your _date,_ aren’t you?” He fairly hissed as he yanked his sweat-soaked tank top over his head.

Timmy hadn’t made a sound when he came in, but Armie knew he was right behind him. He could always sense when Timmy was near, and that pissed him off to no end. And, right now, Timmy was close enough that if he spun around he could get his hands on him...

“It wasn’t a date. Not really.” Timmy replied softly.

“Right,” Armie scoffed, looking quickly away from Timmy’s piercing gaze as he parked his ass on the bench to take off his shoes.

“What the fuck is up with you?” Timmy demanded, his contemptuous tone taking Armie by surprise.

Raising his head up from between his knees, Armie leveled his stare on Timmy, making him instinctively take a step back. “I’m just trying to figure out what the hell constitutes a ‘not real date’. Is that a hand job behind the 7-11?”

Armie hated himself more in that moment than he ever had in his life, but he couldn’t be stopped.

Fury that ran off Timmy in waves. “No, that would be you. You fucking cocksucker.”

“You wish.” Armie muttered under his breath, dealing the killing blow as he bent to untie his other shoe.

But, he didn’t reach it. Instead, he found himself flying over the back of the bench, landing with a bone-crushing thud on his back, his head smacking like a bowling ball on the tile of the floor beneath him. Timmy was on top of him, his hands around his throat, squeezing for all he was worth.

Armie just let him. Didn’t fight him. Could only stare up into the beauty of his best friend’s face so viciously twisted with anger it made Armie want to cry because _he had done that._

When Timmy finally noticed that the body beneath him was yielding, not struggling, he froze, releasing the pressure he held at Armie’s throat. He stared into the eyes of his best friend and saw nothing but hate.

“Fuck. You.” Timmy whispered, hate filling the two syllables.

Armie closed his eyes, and turned his head away as the weight left his body, and the silence of the locker room surrounded him.

“I swear to God, if you say one word, you will be roadkill.” Armie groaned, closing his eyes.

Nick stood in the doorway, had seen it all and probably heard it all as well, but his face was unreadable. Armie finally forced himself off the floor, removed the other shoe he still wore and, threw it across the room with a roar.

Nick just continued to stare.

“What?!” Armie yelled.

“You know,”  Was all Nick offered, his face unchanging as he just kept staring at him. 

“I know what?”

“You know,,”  He turned and left the gym.

 

_******_

 

Armie’s phone landed on the dresser top with a plastic crunch. Shorts and boxers a careless pile on the floor as he stalked straight to the shower. He had left the rest of his shit in the gym. He’d get it later. When he felt like it. If it was there. He could give two shits at this point.

_Shit._

A hot shower was supposed to help. Was supposed to ease the ache and burn of his muscles. Calm him out. But, it didn’t.

It heated him up even more, filling out all his corners with an inexplicable need and urgency. And, a cock that throbbed with its own pulse. That in and of itself wasn’t news. Armie was always ready for action, but as he grabbed onto the fucker, it wasn’t with any sense that at the end of it he would feel any kind of relief.

No. He would be more hollow than ever. A shell of want that he had no hope of filling because what he wanted most meant too much to him.

He came with a dissatisfied groan, the orgasm nothing more than a hiccup that left him wanting more in spite of it. Thoroughly disgusted with himself, he toweled off and pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee. As much as he hated the thought, he knew he had to apologize to Timmy.

And, he wouldn’t blame Timmy if he refused to accept it.

He took a deep breath and knocked with a trembling fist. The door opened slowly to reveal a still clearly pissed Timmy.

“Whatever you have to say, save it. I’m not interested. What I do, or _don’t_ , as the case may be,” he added, pointedly. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, remember?”

Armie couldn’t have stopped himself if he had wanted to. One second, Timmy was talking and the next Armie had his mouth on his. His thick arms wrapped around broad shoulders. Hard muscular chests pressed tightly together as they clung to each other.

There was nothing delicate about this kiss. This kiss was fiery, all-consuming, bordering on desperate.

They stumbled into the room, mouths clamoring to take all they could. Biting, pulling. Hands groping, fingers locked into hard tight flesh, unwilling to give up their hold. Someone closed the door as hungry moans filled in around the quiet music Timmy had been listening to.

Armie’s head was buzzing. Something was trying to get his attention, but all he could focus on was the feel of Timmy’s body against his own. The feel of his soft lips kissing him back just as roughly as he was kissing him. The sweet taste and slippery perfection of his tongue. Oh, God he wanted that tongue all over his body. Wanted that perfect mouth wrapped around his cock. He wanted Timmy...

“Timmy.” Armie rasped once he found strength to drag his mouth away. It was hard to breathe, and he struggled to see as he lifted his head to look into his best friend’s face.

His eyes were still closed, his lips, swollen just like he knew his own had to be. They were parted, waiting patiently for more from Armie, struggling for breath. So beautiful. Armie slid one hand from his shoulder, up Tim’s slender neck, feeling for a second the throbbing, racing pulse in the artery that ran up from his heart...the artery that throbbed just beneath the skin, the skin so thin covering it, making it vulnerable…

_Timmy was so vulnerable._

Armie groaned and stepped away. Timmy quickly opened his eyes, the green of them so dark now, his pupils blown wide. Armie felt a flush of heat, so intense it took his breath away. His buddy was so sexed up, ready and willing.

Armie was terrified.

“I can’t do this.”

The words were like a switch. Timmy’s eyes were now hooded, a veil thrown down over them, dulling the luscious green Armie loved, the change in direct relation to what Armie had just said.

“Of course, you can’t. It’s the work of a moment to fuck anything with a pulse in the bathroom at some club, but to sleep with someone that might actually care about you...”

Timmy’s  eyes fell to the floor, and Armie hated seeing the hurt that settled over his body like a blanket; his shoulders sagging under the weight of it as he shook his head.

“Get out.”

“Timmy, hold up...”

“If you don’t get out of my fucking room, I swear...”

“But...”

“GET. OUT!!!”

It was for the best. Just what did Armie hope to make happen here? What did he want to say? He turned and walked to the door, all the faults and defects of his life piling up to fortify the wall of reasons that he could never be good enough for Timmy.

But, why didn’t they go as high as they used to? What had changed?

Oh, that’s right. Because he had friends now that liked him for who he was. Accepted him and didn’t judge him. He was away from the family that wanted him to conform and be something he knew he wasn’t and never could be. He had met someone that made him want to be a better person, not because they wanted him to change, but because they loved him for just who he was.

And, didn’t that make all the difference in the world?

Armie  reached the door, laying his palm flat against the cool wood, pressing his forehead against its smooth hardness.

_Nick. The bastard._

Yeah, he was right. Armie knew. Had always known, but had told himself it was for the best...for Timmy’s sake.

He locked the door.

“I can’t do this.” He quietly repeated, his head still pressed to the door. His eyes closed. He knew Timmy was about to explode behind him, not that he blamed him.

“You’ve made that more than perfectly clear. Just forget it, Armie. Just like the kiss. It’ll be easy enough for us to keep our distance.”

“That won’t work.” Armie slowly turned around, planting his hands behind his back as he leaned against the door.

“It’ll have to, won’t it?” Timmy bit off, his frustration and heartbreak killing Armie in slow degrees. “Fuck, I could even transfer out. Not like I don’t have choices.”

A low rumble filled the room. A deep growl rolling out of Armie’s chest. “You aren’t fucking going anywhere.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have a say in that, do you?”

Armie took a deep breath, trying to muscle some control over the ire that was rising in his body.  _Deep breath in._ He ran a surprisingly shaky fist through his still-damp hair. _Deep breath out._

Timmy was going about his business, ignoring Armie entirely as he flopped on the bed and began flipping nonchalantly through the hundreds of channels that were available in the house.

_Dear god, he was too beautiful._

Though he took up more than his fair share of the massive bed he was lying on, Armie still saw him as a vulnerable beauty. Something to be cherished and treasured. Held in loving esteem.

_Worshiped._

_Decision made, for better or worse._

“What I meant, when I said I couldn’t do this was...I can’t pretend anymore.” Armie pushed himself off the door, walking slowly toward the bed.

Timmy froze, his eyes still on the tv, the remote forgotten in his hand. Armie noticed that his chest didn’t move, as if he were holding his breath, waiting for Armie’s next words.

“I can’t pretend that I don’t think of you every second of the day. That I when I close my eyes, it’s not you that haunts my dreams.”

Timmy dropped the remote, planting his fists in the bed, pushing himself to sit up against the headboard in a nervous rush, still only staring at the tv.

Armie stood at the bedside now, reaching out, he placed one finger under Timmy’s chin, gently lifted Timmy’s face so that he would meet his gaze. “I can’t watch you go out with others and not wish for all the world that it was me.”

“Armie,” Timmy whispered, his voice a strange mixture of need and denial. He was looking up at him, fear filling his eyes as Armie sat down on the edge of the bed. His fingers traced the strong curve of Timmy’s jaw and he felt him shudder. He licked his suddenly too-dry lips, reaching up to wrap his fingers around Armie’s wrist, stilling it, when he only wanted more. “Please, if you don’t...I can’t handle you pulling back again. If you don’t mean to be with me, then I don’t want...”

Armie silenced him with his mouth. It was gentle and reverent, a benediction to what Timmy meant to him as their lips softly caressed. There was a soft sigh, Armie’s or Timmy’s...Both? It didn’t matter. Timmy pulled back because he had to look at Armie. Had to know...

Armie knew his eyes burned with an inner light, could feel his face transfixed with the softest smile. Timmy timidly reached up, touching his finger to Armie’s lips and Armie kissed them tenderly.

“Oh my, God.” He whispered breathlessly. “You mean it, don’t you?”

“Yeah...I do.” He tilted his head to now press his lips to Timmy’s palm. “I don’t know how this works. How to be an ‘us’...I’ve never been in a relationship. Or, hell, I don’t even know if that’s what you want...”

Timmy’s hands fisted in the front of Armie’s tee, pulling him around to face him on the bed. “Can we worry about all that later? Right now, I just want you to kiss me again.” He growled as he pulled Armie down on top of him, meeting his mouth in a heated kiss.

Armie shifted his feet and legs up onto the bed, planting one of his thighs between Timmy’s and letting the full weight of his body come down on him, pushing him into the mattress.

“Oh. My _god_.” Timmy panted against Armie’s mouth as the exquisite weight settled on him, the full length of Armie’s body feeling so perfect stretched out on top of him. He felt more than heard the rumble of low laughter that came from Armie’s chest.

“You feel just as perfect beneath me. Trust me.” He managed between hard kisses as Timmy’s hands tentatively moved up and down his back. It felt so good, so fucking perfect to have Timmy’s hands on him. His cock was a rock-solid presence between them, digging into Timmy’s muscular thigh.

Armie shifted. He had to know. He moved his thigh, bringing his knee up higher. _Yup. Yup._ His buddy was right there with him.

“Oh, fuck yeah...” Timmy moaned into Armie’s questing mouth. “Do that again.” He hoarsely demanded and Armie was more than happy to oblige.

Their hands fumbled with the clothes they were wearing as the kisses grew more fervent and demanding. Fingers glided in wonder over smooth skin, it’s silken perfection never realized in their own bodies, but now held in wonder revealed in each other, fueling their ardent passion.

Lying side by side in Timmy’s  bed, in their nakedness as if for the first time. The countless showers after workouts in the gym had never happened, and a sense of modesty overcame the both of them.

They knew this would change everything.

Facing each other, Armie’s hand stroked languidly from Timmy’s hip to his knee while Timmy’s hand caressed the massive swell of Armie’s shoulder and hard bicep. They stared intently into each other’s eyes, waiting to see just where this was going next, both painfully aware that their eyes never strayed past each other’s shoulders.

Timmy shocked the shit out of him by smiling broadly. “Oh, please don’t tell me you’ve got no play? I’ve seen you in action, remember?”

Armie flushed, actually _blushed_ like a fucking virgin on her wedding night, stuttering, with nothing to say.

“Come on, Armie. I may like guys, but I’m not a defenseless girl...”

“Jesus, don’t you think I know that?” Armie closed his eyes, letting his hand rest against Timmy’s hip, his fingers itching to reach down, but... “You’re not just a piece of grind. It’s...you.” His stare locked onto Timmy’s. He held his breath as Timmy’s hand slid across the wide expanse of his chest to begin an inexorable slide south to attain an ending of all they had been in the past.

“It _is_ me.” He took his hand away from Armie’s chest and the he missed the heat of the touch immediately. Nothing had ever felt so right as having Timmy touch him...

“Fuck... _me.”_ Armie hissed as Timmy grabbed his hand and put it between his legs. With no need for prompting, Armie’s fist tightened around Timmy’s swollen length, causing him to arch into Armie with a resounding groan.

Armie’s earlier thought was now fully amended– Nothing had ever felt so right until he had touched Timmy...just like this. Fisting his best friend, letting his hand ride the long, hard length of Timmy’s erection was the best thing he had ever known.

Oh, sweet _Christ..._ didn’t things just keep getting better?

If he hadn’t been lying down, he would have fallen to his knees with blinding pleasure as Timmy locked his own hand around Armie’s cock. He looked to Timmy, his face a mirror, reflecting the erotic delight they were giving each other.

It was all the impetus Armie needed.

“Watch my hand, Timmy.” He growled as all doubt flew out the window. Timmy obeyed, and his grip tightened, holding fast as he slid up the long length and squeezed the pulsing head until Timmy gasped.

“So good,” he sighed, pressing his lips to Armie’s waiting mouth.

The kisses were hot, slippery movements of tongue, clashing and colliding, sliding deep to lick and taste. Teeth nipping and biting, edges sharp and needle-like teasing with pricks of titillating sensation. Their chests heaved with gasping, forceful breaths as vivid intensity passed from one hand to the other; both amazed at the gathering storm that rose between them so quickly.

Struggling to hold on to a shred of consciousness, Armie forced his mouth from Timmy’s, focusing his eyes to watch  where his hand was, shoving his own impending rapture to the back of his brain, wanting only to give Timmy all that he had to give.

All that Timmy deserved.

As if hearing his name from Armie’s thoughts, Timmy shifted closer, closing the distance between them, so that their chests touched, their arms moving against each other in time. He guided Armie’s cock to his, touching them together in sweet torment. Rubbing them together, their hands entwining around each at the same time.

A low rumbling hum rolled from the back of Armie’s throat, as he buried his face against Timmy’s neck, dragging his lips up the smooth column his throat, leaving biting kisses along the sharp line of his jaw.

“I’m so close, Timmy...” He whispered desperately across Timmy’s ear. “So... close.”

His hand tightened even more against Armie, causing him to tense, hold back...Not yet.

“Together...We...come together.” Timmy demanded, struggling with the words.

“Then, look at me, Timmy.” He growled and Timmy lifted his eyes, the lovely green gone as dark as midnight as he locked his stare to Armie’s.

The base of his spine was on fire as he savagely worked his Timmy’s cock toward completion. “Look at me.” His voice sounded other-worldly, a deep, resonating timbre etched with abandon that he had never heard before. “Look... _now._ ” He growled and his eyes dropped below their waists, to the seat of all they had never thought they would share. 

Timmy’s gaze followed the command, his own hand never ceasing as Armie orgasmed in a hot rush against Timmy’s stomach and thighs.

Timmy joined him, sighing in marvel with Armie’s name a fervent repeated whisper on his lips.

Their bodies were a mess, covered in the culmination of what had just taken place between them; sheets sweat-soaked; boneless as a jelly.

They smiled softly at each other in the dim light of the night, entwined as never before, staring with wonder at the peace they shared. Pleasure known and taken, a trust and love between two friends; sacred and pure.

Armie finally regained his stolen breath, and worked his mouth to speak, knowing there were words he wanted to say. Beautiful things. Prose worthy of Timmy’s ears.

“Oh... _wow.”_ Was all that he could manage to embarrassingly mutter.

_Smooth, asshole..._

Timmy burst out laughing, as he gingerly disengaged from the messy knot of limbs they formed. “I guess it’s a good thing I don’t love you for your mind only.”

“What?” Armie gasped, and Timmy just shrugged. It was a confession that came easy to him it seemed. Something in Armie’s heart lurched.

Timmy leaned down, pressing a sweet, gently kiss to Armie’s lips. “It can’t be a surprise,” A soft laugh brushed across Armie’s mouth. “It’s okay. I didn’t say it to put you on the spot. We can talk about all of that later, okay?” His nose brushed alongside Armie’s, a simple caress the likes of which Armie had never known.

Timmy shifted, moving to get up.

“Wait. Whoa, where are you going?” He grabbed Timmy’s wrist as he turned to walk away, desperate now to keep him close.

Timmy’s mouth lifted in a beguiling half-smile before he leaned down, kissing Armie breathless. Armie’s hands framed Timmy’s face, holding him close as he reveled in the exquisite softness of Timmy’s lips. He moaned low in his throat with pleasure before it quickly turned to a sound of disappointment as he felt Timmy try to pull back from him. “Come here. I believe I’m getting inspired to share more of my...mind with you.” He growled against Timmy’s mouth, reaching up to pull him back down to him.

This time Timmy succeeded in breaking away. His eyes quickly took in the naked length of Armie’s body, and the definite proof that he was very much on his way to ready in sharing... _something_ with him. He kissed him hard once more and stood up quickly.

“Armie, you should know that I’ll let you share anything you want to with me, but I thought first, we might clean up this...mess.”

Armie looked down to where Timmy’s eyes rested, seeing the remnants of their shared experience drying on his body, then looking at the evidence on Timmy’s own thighs and flat stomach. Armie shoved an arm behind his head as he looked up at Timmy, his other hand snaking down his stomach to smear the sticky wetness around provocatively.

“I think I kind of like feeling you on my skin.” The words rumbled from the back of his throat as he watched Timmy watch his every move. “And, I think you do, too.” He smirked, one brow lifted high on his brow as he looked at the hardening evidence between Timmy’s thighs.

“Jesus, you’re a menace.” Timmy muttered, shoving a fist through his hair as he took a shaky breath. “Maybe I should be careful what I wish for. I may not survive this night, once I find out completely just how well you live up to your rep.” Timmy tried to smile, but Armie could see the tiniest flicker of doubt, that he had indeed, bitten off more than he could chew.

Armie’s heart took a dive, and he stilled his movements immediately. He grabbed Timmy’s hand, looking hard into his eyes. “You have to know… I swear, I will never treat you like I’ve treated those others in the past.  I know that I am not worthy enough for the feelings you have for me.” He shook his head as Timmy started to deny his words. “Come on, Timmy. I know you deserve better than me, and I remember that promise I made to you...if anyone ever hurts you, I will see them bleed. And, that includes me.”

Timmy did smile now, his face a soft reflection of love as he bent over their clasped hands, kissing the sensitive skin of Armie’s inner wrist. “My hero.” He whispered so softly that Armie almost _felt_ the words on his skin more than he heard them. His eyes lifted, looking up at Armie through his pale lashes. “You forget, Armie. I know you. You deserve the best, too.”

The words soothed Armie out. Hearing them from anyone else, would never have had the impact that they did coming from Timmy. His heart was in his throat, and all he could do was offer a wavering smile which was returned easily.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up, and maybe we could order a pizza or something? I’m starving.” Timmy pulled on Armie’s arm, forcing him to stand up.

“Sounds good. Maybe we could play some video games. You up for an ass-whooping?” Armie suggested, following Timmy into the bathroom.

Timmy laughed, turning the water on in the sink. He tossed Armie a damp cloth, catching Armie’s eye in the mirror. “Mmm, ‘ass-whooping’. I’ve never tried that, but I think I might could get into it. Just so long as I don’t have to call you ‘sir’ or some shit.”

The teasing glint in Timmy’s eye was so fucking adorable. Armie grabbed him by the shoulder, easily shoving him against the marble wall as he stepped in close, pressing his body into his. Toe to toe and eye to eye, Armie registered the sensation as nothing short of delicious. Timmy’s hands went automatically to Armie’s waist, pulling him even closer.

Armie’s voice came  low, raw and gravel-edged as he spoke, slowly closing the distance between their mouths. “Call me sir.”

Timmy swallowed hard, Armie’s mouth hovering intently over his own. He managed breathlessly. “ _Sir._ ” Before he was stopped from saying anything further.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would have been easier just write "they fuck" instead of the 6K words I ended up using. LOL
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

They ended up ordering pizza. An extra large  _ cheese _ pizza. 

Timmy was pressed up against Armie’s side, sitting on the bed. Armie was ordering online as Timmy was trying to reach across the keyboard with an index finger to tap the icon to add pepperoni, but  Armie moved the laptop out of his reach before he could manage.

“You don’t like pepperoni,” he’d reminded Timmy, placing the laptop back in his lap once Timmy had put his finger away.

Timmy crossed his arms. “But you _ do _ . I can just pick them off. It’s no problem.”

“It’s your fave, babe, we’re getting cheese,”  Armie crooned, mouth pressed against Timmy’s shoulder as he finalised the order.

Timmy rolled his eyes, but Armie saw the adorable flush that tinged his cheeks at the endearment. (Armie was filing that info away for later use.)

So, one  _ cheese  _ pizza and half a gallon of Rocky Road later, the boys had settled in to play video games. With wicked delight, and tired of arguing over just whose brilliant idea it was, they were naked, Armie propped against the padded headboard with Timmy wedged solidly between his sprawled thighs. Back to front, warm smooth skin molded together with the heat of their bodies as Armie righteously kicked Timmy’s ass at  _ Call of Duty _ .

“You totally suck,” Armie teased as he put another win in his column.

“That’s because you are a fucking lousy cheat,” Timmy huffed, but tilted his head to allow Armie’s mouth greater access to his neck, groaning. “How can I concentrate when you are doing _ that _ ?” One hand left the game controller and found its way to Armie’s thigh, fingers biting into hard as stone flesh with the sweet torment.

“I love your throat. Wanted it for so fucking long,” Armie murmured, dragging his lips up the long length of Timmy’s exposed neck.

Without thought, Timmy pressed back further into Armie, his ass grinding against the steely hardness of Armie’s cock,  panting feverishly as Armie’s warm breath against painted his ultra-sensitive skin.

Armie growled at the sensation Timmy was negligently offering with the slow grind he was doing. Wrapping an arm around Timmy’s shoulder, Armie gripped him by the chin, twisting to expose his neck for unhindered access as his other hand wrapped around Timmy’s waist. Like an iron band, he halted any further movements on Timmy’s part.

“Stop doing that,” Armie tried to hiss, but it came out as a whine, licking and sucking the vulnerable skin of Timmy’s throat just below his ear, pulling the blood to the surface, needing to mark him in some way as his.

He couldn’t see the nefarious glint in Timmy’s eye, as he realized Armie was leaving evidence of their passion, and it spurned his own fervent need as Timmy amped up the pressure he forced against Armie’s crotch.

“I said. Don’t. Fucking. Move.” Armie threatened savagely

The urge was blinding, Armie struggled to fight the not-so-subtle invitation Timmy was offering, the offer for Armie to take exactly what it seemed Timmy was dying to give.  Armie wanted to throw him down and mount him in savage, brutal lust…aching, deprived of reason, those thoughts had driven Armie to the brink more times than he could count, in the  bathrooms of whatever club he happened to find himself, in the days after Timmy had asked for that kiss.

 

*****

 

It happened the night of their homecoming game. Timmy had kicked for a field goal late in the fourth quarter, insuring the win. Afterwards, high on their victory, the frat house teemed with people, a raging kegster in full swing. Armie’s red solo cup seemed bottomless, of what, he wasn’t quite sure. It tasted like shit, but it got the job done. The edges of his vision blurred in just that way he liked, his head light as helium, his steps heavy and way too careful as he maneuvered between bodies. 

He’d lost sight of Timmy early on. One minute he was in the doorway to the kitchen, talking to some rando standing way too close, head bent to Timmy’s ear as he smiled up into the dude’s face. Armie rubbed at the center of his chest thinking about it, looking round the room but finding no sign of him anywhere now.

Downing the last of his cup with a sated sigh, Armie decided it was time to take a piss before he headed out back for a refill from the inflatable kiddie pool some genius bastard had decided to use as a punchbowl.

“ _ Fuck, _ ” he grumbled when the handle of the downstairs toilet wouldn’t turn. Occupied.

He made it up the stairs, proud to only have stumbled on the next to last riser from the top. It was quieter up here, still wall to wall people, but most mouths were occupied with not talking, every square foot of wall space covered in pairs of bodies pressed close. The music thumped through the soles of his feet as he made his way down the hall to the bathroom.

Armie came to a halt as he passed Timmy’s room. The door was ajar, a wedge of light cutting diagonally across the carpet beneath his feet. He heard a muffled grunt and thump around the corner of the door.

He wasn’t sure why he looked in (yes he was), and certainly would come to regret it later that he did, but he reached out, planting his palm flat against the door as he slowly pushed it open.

Timmy was crowded against the edge of his dresser,  bent backwards at an ungodly angle. His hands pressed against the shoulders of the asshole Armie had seen him with earlier, trying to hold him at arm’s length, as the guy leaned in toward Timmy’s neck.

Armie’s blood ran cold, freezing him where he stood. When it finally fucking dawned on Armie that Timmy was struggling to hold the guy back, Armie went berserk. The door crashed against the wall as he threw it open, running headlong into the room and tackling the guy to the ground, knocking Tim over in the process.

Of course, every fucking person that had been in the hallway, filed into Timmy’s room as soon as they heard fists meeting flesh. Timmy and three others from their team eventually pulled him off the asshole before he beat him completely senseless, hauling him out of Armie’s sight as soon as they could.

The door closed behind someone, muffling whatever the asshole was still complaining about. Armie was planted on his ass, knees bent with his arms draped over them. His chest heaved, struggling to catch his breath, the last dregs of adrenaline coursing through his body leaving him shaky and sweaty.

Armie stared at the floor, a tiny smear of blood already turning dark, drying on the hardwood floor. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, the image of Timmy trying his best to get away from the guy playing on loop in his head.

“Hey,” Timmy’s voice was close, startling Armie out of the memory.

He was crouched on the floor in front of him, bent so he could look at Armie’s downturned face. The smile he attempted broke Armie’s heart.

“Are you okay?” Armie didn’t recognise his own voice, stilted and hollow.

There was something resembling a huff from Timmy as he sat down on the floor facing Armie, legs crossed in front of him. “I should be asking you that.”

He reached out, taking Armie’s hand in his own, inspecting the reddened knuckles.

Armie wanted to pull away, knew he should because it was bad, always so bad when Timmy touched him. He never wanted him to stop and he  _ had _ to stop. But Armie just sat there, staring at his hand resting in Timmy’s own warm smaller ones. One long index finger tracing the valleys and crests of his knuckles mindlessly. Armie shivered.

“Why the fuck were you up here with that douche?”

Armie knew his tone was too harsh when Timmy dropped his hand, wrapping his arms around his middle, holding himself tightly.

He shrugged. “He seemed nice. And hot.”

Armie groaned, wiping a hand across his face. “Are you  _ that  _ desperate you’ll just invite anyone up here? Do you even know his name?”

Timmy’s eyes narrowed, the green gone cold as Arctic ice. “You’re one to talk. What was the dude’s name last night? Or that chick three days ago?” He stood in one graceful movement with a heavy, disgusted sigh. “Just fucking take your drunk ass back downstairs and find tonight’s next victim.”

Timmy flopped back onto his bed, throwing an arm across his eyes.

Armie looked at him, stretched out across the bed. Long legs in fitted jeans, t-shirt pulled up by his bent arm, exposing a section of smooth flank, the entire aesthetic of him heating Armie from the inside out. He swallowed the dry, brittle feeling and stood up.

He stood there too long, staring, until Timmy finally moved his arm, blinking up into his face.

“ _ What? _ ” Armie couldn’t blame him for being annoyed.

But, Armie was at a loss. Timmy was right, he  _ should _ just go back downstairs, or to the club downtown and find a piece of grind, but the thought didn’t sit well with him. He couldn’t even imagine finding the energy to do it. He was so fucking  _ tired. _

Timmy’s face twisted, registering concern as he sat up, leaning back on his hands. “What’s wrong?”

Armie shook his head. He didn’t know what was wrong, just that something  _ was. _ He shoved his hands in his pockets as Timmy swung his legs around to the floor.

“God, you are an asshole,” patting the bed beside him. “Sit.”

Armie sat. Close. Too close to be anything other than purposeful, but he’d had enough to drink to make his judgment questionable at this stage.

They sat there for what seemed like hours, Armie’s hand resting on the bed between their thighs, his pinky close enough to touch the denim Timmy wore. He slowly moved it back and forth, mindless.

“I didn’t need you to rescue me, you know,” Timmy finally spoke, his voice soft.

Armie rubs his free hand at the back of his neck. “Looked like it from where I was standing. Jesus, Tim, he was trying-”

“He was  _ trying  _ to get in my pants. That was the whole point, Armie,” Timmy complained.

Timmy refused to turn his head, to look at Armie, so Armie stared at his profile. Hard.

“You were pushing him away, trying to hold him back when I came in,” Armie could feel the anger rising in him again. The indignation he felt on behalf of his friend.

Timmy remained silent, turning Armie’s blood to ice.

“You would have  _ let him _ ?” Armie didn’t fight the disgust and surprise in his voice. The thought Timmy would just  _ let someone take him _ . “What the  _ fuck _ , T?”

Heat burned bright as a flare on the crest of Timmy’s high cheekbone. Armie watched his throat work in a slow undulation before he spoke. “Why do you care what I do and with whom, or even  _ how _ I do it?”

“Why do I care? You are seriously going to ask me why I  _ care  _ my best friend is being forced to have sex when it’s clear he didn’t want it? Oh, I don’t know, T. I guess it’s clearly for shits and giggles. Just an asshole that would stand by and let that happen to you!”

Armie knew he was too loud, his words betraying just how close he was to revealing too much to Timmy. Saying things that he could never take back once they were out in the light of day. He took a deep stuttering breath.

“I’m glad I made him bleed,” he quietly admitted. He tightened his fist, resting it on his knee, his arm shaking, his nails digging into his own palm. “I would have killed him. I  _ wanted  _ to kill him for daring to touch you like that. He had no right-”

Timmy buried his face in his hands, dark curls falling forward like a veil.

“Armie, do you realise you’ve been caressing my leg since you sat down? What the  _ fuck _ are you  _ doing? _ I can’t- Just  _ stop _ , please,”  he begged, his voice strained.

It broke Armie’s heart, cleaved it right in two to know he was the one causing Timmy pain right now. Moving his hand was like a tiny death.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t-”

“Yeah, I know,” Timmy scoffed, bitter. “You weren’t trying anything. You weren’t doing anything. It doesn’t mean anything. I’ve heard them all before, remember?”

Armie felt cold and small. He was a horrible person. He  _ knew _ Timmy ‘felt’ things for him. He was never enough of a masochist to believe it was anything more than a crush or a side effect of their instant, natural affinity for one another.

“I’m sorry, T. I thought I was helping. I’m just going to go-”

Timmy reached out, grabbing his forearm. He wasn’t strong enough to stop Armie if he really wanted to leave, but his hand might as well have been a bear trap. Armie wasn’t moving from that spot as long as Timmy held him there.

They sat still, barely breathing. The skin of Armie’s arm, beneath the weight of Timmy’s hand was the epicenter of a wave of warmth, radiating through his body, gooseflesh riding in its wake.

“I see you, night after night, a different person every night,” Timmy whispered. “I smile and laugh and high-five your  _ skill _ while slowly dying inside. I know you know… I see you look at me sometimes with this look on your face, when you come back from having fucked some random behind the club, or the bathroom, like you feel  _ sorry  _ for me. And, in my head,” he licks his lips, swallowing hard and Armie wants to die from the pain in his voice. “In my head, I wonder what is wrong with  _ me _ that you can’t take me outside or into the bathroom. Because I would  _ go _ , Armie. In a heartbeat, I would let you-”

“Shut up,” Armie groans, stunned. Mortified. Desolate. “I could never…  _ Jesus,  _ Timmy. I couldn’t just  _ use _ you like that. You are too important to me. You mean too much.”

“How much?” He snaps back, too quickly. “You have to know… you have to know how I feel- about you. I would do any-”

“Timmy,  _ please _ . Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t say anything else.  _ Fuck, _ ” Armie pushed Timmy’s hand away and stood in a rush, pacing to the other side of the room. “I’m not worth you wasting a second thought on, you gotta know that. You deserve so much more than me. I’m not… there’s something  _ wrong  _ with me, Tim. I’m… broken.”

“Don’t say that. Jesus, don’t say that, Armie,” Timmy was suddenly standing in front of him, eyes wild. “You are not  _ broken _ . You are the best person I know and I lo-”

“ _ Tim _ ,” Armie whined, closing his eyes, wanting to put his hands over his ears. He couldn’t hear that. It wasn’t true. Armie was the  _ worst _ person. He knew how much Tim cared about him, that he wanted more than friendship, had known it for too long.

Armie spent too many sleepless nights imagining what that would be like, belonging to each other only. It was always to Armie’s advantage. Tim was ethereal, perfect. An angel and just the thought of  _ more  _ with him made Armie sick to his stomach, envisioning him covered in the darkness that filled Armie’s head. He couldn’t do that to him.

“Right, okay,” Timmy quietly acquiesced. Armie startled, his eyes flying open, as he felt Timmy’s hand against his chest. “I don’t understand why it can be everyone else but me, but I’m not going to fight you about it anymore. But, can I, can I ask just one thing. Just this one thing and then I’ll never ask you for anything else again.” He stepped in close, his voice lowering as he spoke.

“Timmy, what-” Armie was terrified.

“Just once.” Timmy said softly, staring at Armie’s mouth. “Kiss me? Just once That’s all I’m asking.”

Armie should have turned and left the room. He should have gone out and found someone to either punch or fuck, anything but stay rooted to that spot with Timmy’s palm against his chest and his eyes looking up at him, pleading.

But he didn’t leave, he couldn’t. He was doomed from the moment Timmy had shown up on that football field two years ago, somehow always knowing this was where they would end up.

So, instead of doing what he should have done, what would have been best for Timmy and walking out his bedroom door, instead Armie took a step closer to him. Closing the gap between them as they met, chest to chest. His hands slowly trailed up the length of Timmy’s arms, curving over the knobs of his shoulders, to cup each side of his head. Armie’s thumbs caressed his sharp jawline as Timmy’s mouth fell open with a silent gasp.

Armie lowered his head as Timmy rose on his toes, meeting him halfway.

 

*****

 

Armie closed his eyes tight, finally coming to his senses, knowing keeping Timmy so close, letting him continue to taunt him was not what should be happening. He shoved Timmy away from him, forcing him to scramble to the end of the bed. Armie  froze as his eyes locked on those of his best friend, disappointment haunting the green purity of them; sadness so poignant it made Armie’s chest freeze solid.

“I…can’t, Timmy.” The words choked him, the sound like that of a coffin lid slamming shut. “Not this time. You really don’t- You don’t… _ know  _ what you are asking for here.”

The goddamned silence of the room was suffocating to Armie. He still sat sprawled, propped against the head of the bed, the chill surrounding him like a blanket when he just wanted to wrap himself around Timmy…to feel his warmth and perfection against his skin…the only place he felt worthy, the only time he thought for just one fucking second he could be what Timmy needed…only when he touched him.

He didn’t know what was going on in Timmy’s head. He was shielded…his shutters closed tight as he knelt on the foot of the bed, staring straight through Armie.

There were so many things Armie wanted to say…but, he didn’t have the words. Nothing he could say to make this right or to make Timmy understand…the  _ why _ of it.

Timmy sat back on his heels and took a deep breath, drawing Armie’s attention from the self-flagellation he was knee-deep in, and his own breath came out in a rush at the look on Timmy’s face then. And, it said it all…just like before, the words were seared into his memory, and he was as powerless to them now as he had been then in Timmy’s bedroom…

_ “Just once. Kiss me? Just this once is all I’m asking.” _

Armie swallowed hard as Timmy moved from the bed with his easy, refined grace. Any other time, Armie would have been happy to get lost in just looking at his body; naked, sleek, powerful in its graceful lines, as he made his way across the room to the mirrored dresser near the door.

“Timmy.” Armie knew he sounded…small, but there was no way he could do that, not to Timmy, no matter how badly he ached for it. He just could _ not. _

There was the low sound of a drawer sliding open then closed and Armie watched with anxious trepidation, trying to catch a glimpse of Timmy’s face in the mirror.

“It can be good without having to do  _ that _ . Timmy, it can. We just proved that it can. There’s more…”

Timmy’s shoulders straightened as he took in a slow deep breath. “Yeah, that was good, Armie,” there was something in his voice that Armie couldn’t place. Resignation? Determination? Armie was shit when it came to understanding subtleties. “What we just shared,” Timmy continued in that same, even tone. “It was beautiful. The best thing I have ever known. And, more than I dreamed to have with you.”

Armie’s hands fisted in the sheets at his sides, bracing himself for the heartache he knew was coming. Timmy was going to give him the boot, and he didn’t blame him for a fucking second.

Armie was a worthless bastard and was about to be handed his ass right back to him because he never should have knocked on Timmy’s door to begin with. Never should have started something he couldn’t finish, not with Timmy. Timmy deserved romance and words of adoration, gentleness and a loving touch. Things Armie just wasn’t capable of. He wasn’t  _ wired _ that way. He was coarse and hard and demanding, and shit, yeah, a complete motherfucking pervert when it came to sex.

Armie shoved a shaking hand through his hair in frustration. He should just get up; walk out. Save them both the trouble. But, being the sap that he was, Armie couldn’t give up these last few moments, looking at Timmy’s beautiful, strong body, knowing it would be the last time.

“I know what you’re thinking Armie,” the soothing timbre of Timmy’s voice grabbed his attention from the ass-kicking his conscience was giving him and Armie looked up to meet Timmy’s level verdant gaze in the mirror. “I know _ you _ . Don’t you think I drank in every detail, every moment of you, with who the fuck ever, all those times at the club, here in the house? I know you, Armie, and I want you. I want all that you do. I want all of you, inside of me.”

The fear in his chest, tightened so that Armie couldn’t breathe and his eyes burned with the threat of tears. “Timmy…don’t…please.” His voice was hollow and no more than a whisper. “I can’t do that, not to you.” His stomach felt like he had swallowed a handful of glass, the pain was too sharp to bear. He shook his head, to fight the urge to cry like a girl or to shake out the thoughts and visions of taking Timmy, taking him and fucking him. Timmy had no  _ clue.  _ He shook his head.

“Don’t ask me to do that. I couldn’t bear it, Tim. I couldn’t do that, not to you,  _ please. _ ” He was on the verge of saying too much, when Timmy slowly turned around and walked toward the bed.

Armie wanted to run but all he did was press himself further against the headboard, a shitty feeble attempt to put more distance between them. But Timmy moved with determination and Armie caught sight of something in his hand, a small clear bottle. Armie’s eyes grew wide when he realized what it was.

“If it’s not you, Armie, it’s going to be somebody else,” Timmy’s voice sounded as if he were speaking from the other side of the house, downstairs, somewhere far away and not the five feet that separated them now. His matter-of-fact admission caused the bottom of Armie’s world to drop from sight, his mind slamming shut as the room grew frigid in the work of a moment.

That’s when all hell broke loose. The windows rattled in their casements, as thunder rolled from an oncoming storm.  _ So fucking fitting,  _ it suited Armie’s own raging internal storm as he imagined books, cd’s, bottles of cologne bouncing along the tabletops with the ferocity of Armie’s mental roar of rage.

He leapt from the bed, taking Timmy to the ground before he could manage to say anything else, landing with a crash that rivaled a sonic boom; certain it had to have been heard all over the house. Armie didn’t care.

Holding Timmy pinned beneath him was easy, fueled with such burning rage he could have stopped a 747. He took Timmy’s mouth in a punishing kiss. Lips and teeth grinding against each other with none of the earlier tender passion. This was hard; painful; demanding Timmy to yield; wanting to wash the fucking words right out of his mouth.

_ “No,” _ he forced the word against Timmy’s responding mouth, grinding the steel length of his erection against Timmy’s thigh as he felt equal pressure in return, a burning presence that inflamed Armie even more.

Through the haze of his labored breaths and fevered need, another sound came to his ears; another realization came to him in the midst of his insane jealousy.

Timmy. He was heaving pleasured moans, and writhing in total blissed-out abandon.

Armie jolted as if he had been goosed with a cattle prod, lifting his head and pulling back from Timmy. But, Timmy was having none of it; was going to give no quarter. He fisted his hands into the hair at Armie’s nape, his head lifting to keep their lips connected.

His body trembled as he struggled to get away from Timmy. No control. Timmy didn’t know what he was asking of him.  _ Fucking hell. _ Armie never had any fucking control, and he was  _ not _ going to hurt Timmy just so he could get off.

Timmy  _ was  _ going to have to find someone else to scratch that itch for him. Armie couldn’t do it. He  _ wouldn’t  _ do it. He would figure out some way to keep from thinking about Timmy with other guys. Armie had to-

His thought was stopped dead in its tracks as Timmy’s hand grabbed hold of Armie’s cock, smoothing cool lube down its length with a tight squeeze. Armie had no idea how Tmmy managed to get the lube in his hand, but coherent thought was clearly in short supply at that particular moment.

Armie froze above him, resting the weight of his upper body on his elbows. “Please, Timmy,” begging, trembling. Terrified. “Don’t make me do this.”

Timmy’s mouth trailed, open-mouthed along the underside of Armie’s jaw as his hand lazily stroked. “Doesn’t feel like I’m  _ making  _ you do anything,” his tone was teasing as his teeth latched onto the edge of his chin, scraping as his head fell away.

How could he be so flip about this? He couldn’t want Armie, not this way.

Armie looked down into his face, finding Timmy’s eyes already on his, unblinking. Armie didn’t look away, he couldn’t. He was lost in the dark green truths he saw there- fearlessness, strength-

_ Love. _

It felt as if something were cut loose inside Armie. The bindings around his heart snapping, the lock broken on that place in his mind he never allowed open, it all changed, then and there. Armie couldn’t look away from Timmy, he couldn’t hide the nature he knew shone in his own gaze staring back. For once in his life, he was wide-open and he let it all show to Timmy. He couldn’t hold it back.

“Armie,” Tim nearly cried, lifting his head in a rush, crashing his mouth against Armie’s as if sealing their mouths together could somehow contain them both.

It was a done deal. The fight was gone from Armie as they kissed and touched and worshipped each other with hands and tongues and fingers, until Armie was poised on the verge of the inevitable, slick cock in one hand, pressing against Timmy’s carefully-prepped entrance.

Armie still had the taste of him in his mouth, where he had worked him slowly open with his tongue before pushing slick-coated fingers inside, one by one. Timmy had writhed and groaned, pulled back from the first insistent touch of pleasure-pain, but Armie had been patient.  _ Somehow _ , he found all the patience in the world, to draw this out, to make sure it was the best Timmy could have. There was an odd sort of calm that settled over Armie. He wasn’t fighting the screaming voice in his head to take. All he could think was  _ give  _ and  _ good _ and  _ perfect. _

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Armie confessed with a whine. Because no matter how much he prepared Timmy it was going to hurt, there was no way around getting to the pleasure without the pain.

The muscles of his left arm was shaking, holding all his weight poised above Timmy, waiting for him to stop him, hoping he would so he wouldn’t have to live with what was about to happen. The thought Timmy would regret this already too much to handle.

Timmy’s feet were planted flat on the floor, his knees bracketing Armie’s waist. He ran his hands up and down Armie’s back in a languid sweep as his hips and torso undulated in invitation.

“I trust you,” he whispered, licking his kiss-swollen lips. There was a tremble in his voice that made Armie’s heart ache. “I know it’s going to hurt, but  _ you _ aren’t hurting me.” He lifted his head, planting a sweet, chaste kiss to Armie’s lips, so incongruous to the act they were about to perform. “You know there is a difference. I can  _ feel _ it,” his hands swept across Armie’s sweat-damp shoulders, the sound of his voice awash in that simple pleasure. Touching Armie in this moment. “In you. In every careful way you’ve touched me tonight. I’m not scared of you, Armie.”

Armie could feel the sting of unshed tears as he crashed his mouth against Timmy’s, so fucking grateful to him for allowing him this privilege, for managing to temper that wild part of him he didn’t know could be tamed. All this time, the struggle, the fight to keep himself away from Timmy with the logic he was keeping him safe, when all his darkness needed was Timmy’s light to balance it out.

Timmy clung to him like a life raft, one ankle twisting around his calf as Armie pressed forward. He captured the first gasp of surprise and pain from Timmy’s lips, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead. Armie heard his voice as if from far away, saying things he’d never said to anyone before while fucking them. It surprised him, gave him one more piece of evidence this wasn’t a hard mindless fuck, but  _ more. _

“Breathe, baby,” Armie crooned, holding still, allowing Timmy time to adjust. “If we have to stop, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just let me know. I’ll stop, whatever you need.”

Timmy’s head thrashed against the floor, his eyes screwed shut. “No, don’t stop. Please, just- just give me a second.”

Armie nuzzled the tender skin beneath Timmy’s ear. “Anything. Anything for you, Timmy. I want you to feel good. I want this good for you.” Armie was breathless, could feel the sweat of exertion in holding himself back as it rolled down the valley of his spine.

“Kiss me,” Timmy breathed and Armie was happy to oblige.

He held still, savouring Timmy’s mouth, until he felt Timmy rock beneath him, pulling more of Armie into himself.

“That’s it, baby, take what you need. Take-” Armie couldn’t manage another word except a strangled cry as Timmy’s hands gripped each ass cheek and pulled.

He was suddenly inside Timmy, all the way.

“Tim?”

His eyes were squeezed shut, his face twisted in pain, mouth open and panting.

“ _ Tim _ ,” Armie couldn’t hide the regret in his voice, knowing he was hurting the one person in the world that mattered most to him. “I’m sorry. I knew this was-”

“Shh,” Timmy murmured, finally opening his eyes. Tears glittered in his lashes. “It’s okay. I’m okay.  _ We’re _ okay.” He squeezed Armie’s biceps with a tender smile on his face. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

Armie swallowed around the emotion clogging his throat. Nodding. “You are. You’re like no one else in this world.”

For a second, Armie believed the flush on Timmy’s cheeks darkens, but knowing it had to only be the play of light because Timmy  _ knew _ Armie had to feel that way about him.

The struggle to hold still was nearly more than Armie could take, when all his hindbrain could focus on was the tight-as-a-glove, slick-velvet heat of Timmy surrounding  his cock, driving him toward the brink of ruin. His entire body was pulled piano-wire tight, one press of a key and he’d snap.

Timmy licked his lips, swallowed hard and looked up into Armie’s face. He appeared so young, so trusting, Armie wanted to kill himself for having him in this position. He deserved-

“Okay,” his voice was gravel-edged. He licked his lips again, like he was parched. “You can- you can move now. Just… slowly.”

If Armie were a better man, he’d pull out. He’d still get Timmy off, but he’d sacrifice his own pleasure because he knew he wasn’t worthy of this. Something of that thought must have played on his face because Timmy reached up with one hand, cupping the side of Armie’s face.

“Don’t,” his fingers threaded into the hair behind Armie’s ear, gripping the short, damp strands tight in his fist, forcing Armie to look at him. “Get out of your head,” he breathed. “God, Armie, you’re inside me. I’ve wanted this for so long.  _ Please _ , stop thinking about it all and just fuck me. I want this. I want  _ you _ .” His fingers tightened in his hair. “I want to come with you inside me. Do it, Armie. Make me, please, just make me come.”

Armie was powerless to resist Timmy’s plea. There was nothing Armie wanted more than to make Timmy feel good. Thinking of earlier, what they’d shared, the look on Timmy’s face, Armie wanted that again. Wanted to see Timmy fall to pieces. Wanted to  _ feel _ it now that he had this taste of being inside him. He never wanted to leave.

He gave a slow, experimental roll of his hips and Timmy gasped, not in pain, but in wonder. Armie bent his head, looking to that place where they were joined, became one. It was his turn to gasp as he pulled back, seeing the shaft of his cock exposed before disappearing once more into Timmy’s body. Timmy’s own cock rested against the concave, hairless expanse of his lower abdomen, only half-hard but giving a valiant twitch when Armie bottomed out once more.

“Oh, fuck, Timmy,” Armie gasped, knowing he was gone. There was no turning back now as his thrusts slowly increased, in speed, in intensity. “I never knew… it’s so good. You feel so good.”

“Armie,  _ Jesus _ , fuck.”

Timmy lifted his hips to meet Armie’s thrust, causing Armie to fucking go blind with pleasure. He’d had all kinds of sex, usually the rougher the better, with people that could be considered pro for all the tricks they knew, but none of that compared. Armie was losing his goddamned mind.

“Can you touch yourself, T?” He could give two shits that he sounded pleading, would gladly beg and beseech Timmy everyday for more of this. More of feeling as if the world could crumble to the ground around him and he’d not care. Not for a single second if he could just stay right here, sweat-melded to Timmy, holding him, kissing him, fucking him and loving him.

Armie’s hands had drifted beneath Timmy, curving around his shoulders from underneath, using them for leverage to thrust slow and steady and deep. He groaned, feeling the flutter of muscle within Timmy when he finally got a hand around his cock. It knocked Armie sideways that he could feel this feedback loop of pleasure from Timmy’s grip, down through the muscles of his ass, straight into his cock.

“Oh, fuck. I can’t. Jesus, Tim. I’m not going-”

“It’s okay. I’m not either. I’m so close. Do it,” Timmy babbled between moans.

Armie could feel Timmy’s arm working between their bodies, working his cock in time with Armie’s thrusts, until suddenly he could feel the entire length Timmy’s body go taut beneath him, head bent back, neck exposed. Armie didn’t need an invitation. Bending, he licked over the smooth bump of Timmy’s Adam’s apple, feeling him gasp as Armie pressed his lips to the throbbing pulse at the base of his throat and then Timmy was coming with a near-silent whine. He could feel the warmth of his release blossom between their bodies, each pulse of his orgasm mirrored in the throbbing heat surrounding Armie’s dick.

Armie held him arched in pleasure until he slowly subsided. He kissed and cooed to him as he came down, still buried to the hilt and aching to join him but determined not to miss a single second of Timmy’s bliss to selfishly find his own.

A dreamy, sleepy smile appeared on Timmy’s face, eyes closed. A well of tenderness so deep and sharp grew inside Armie it nearly cleaved him in two.

He buried his face in Timmy’s neck. “God, T. I’m-” he couldn’t say it, not what he wanted to say. The thought so terrifying he had to hide so Timmy couldn’t read it written all over his face.

A hand found its way into the hair at the back of Armie’s skull as Timmy pressed kisses to his crown.

“Come on. Finish, Armie. I need you to,” more kisses, lips dragging sloppily across Armie’s forehead. “I want you to come in me. I want it.  _ Please. _ ”

Armie released a wet sob against Timmy’s throat when he felt Timmy’s sticky palm press against his ass, urging him to move. That was all it took, self-control gone.

He’d never known pleasure. It was as if he were experiencing sex and orgasm for the first time. Sheathed in Timmy’s tight heat, his hands on his skin, his breath hot against his neck, his words of want and need breathed into his ear were a revelation to Armie.

It was on him in a white hot flash, searing, scorching his bones, flailing him wide open as he came barely moments later with Timmy’s name and rambling words on his lips.

Once he was finally able to draw a trembling breath and focus, he realised he was still mumbling, pressing words into the skin of Timmy’s throat.

“I love you. I love you. IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.”

He was mortified for all of two seconds until he felt the death grip Timmy had around his midriff and heard the words repeated back to him between sobs.

“I love you, too. I do. I always have.”

For the first time in his life, Armie thought, someday, he might find a way to deserve those words from Timmy.

 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> While on vaca last week, I re-watched the film "Dear Frankie". If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. It's just a very sweet, precious film starring Gerard Butler and Emily Mortimer.
> 
> Anyway, this is the film that introduced me to the music of Damien Rice. [ Delicate](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRPwFAoQwxc) a very particular fave.
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr. You can find me there as [foryou-insilence](foryou-insilence.tumblr.com).


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